


7 Prayers and Counting

by IndecisiveCat



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternating Perspectives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bottom Harry, Buckle up folks, Coming Out, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Internalized Homophobia, Its a lot, M/M, Protective Louis, Religious Conflict, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Self-Harm, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Teacher-Student Relationship, Top Louis Tomlinson, conversion therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-17
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-21 05:11:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,900
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17037272
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IndecisiveCat/pseuds/IndecisiveCat
Summary: What happens when you trap a bunch of homosexuals, against their will, under one roof? The obvious. Sparks are flown. Holy water is thrown. Nevertheless, the gays persist.-Louis Tomlinson, a 19 year-old boy from Doncaster, falls in love with Harry Styles, a 17 year-old boy from Manchester, at the Church of Evangelisation's gay conversion therapy.





	1. Losing My Religion

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Thank you for choosing to read my fic. You can skip the notes if you'd like but I'm writing this story as a way to cope with my experience with conversion therapy. Although it is based on a real world issue, this fic will not determine everyone's experience with it. It also does not speak for all christians/ catholics who- I'm sure- have varied views on homosexuality and everything surrounding it. Also, I apologise in advance for any errors I may make in christian religious practices. Feel free to correct me if it does happen. I only hope to bring awareness to those who are in favour of it, fuel for those who do not support it and support for those who have suffered through it. I guess, in a way, this is my story... but through two boys who remind me of the many gay relationships birthed during that time of darkness. So, I hope you enjoy it. :)

This isn't Louis Tomlinson's first time at the rodeo. Louis is familiar with the look of disappointment on his mother's face and whirl of insults from his father when they find out he's 'gay again'. He anticipates their hushed chatter outside his bedroom door in the wee hours of the morning, hoping that him and his siblings have fallen asleep. Unbeknownst to them, he makes space on his bed as he waits for Lottie's gentle tap on his shoulder to move in and give him a loving cuddle. He packs his dirty haversack his parents bought for a school camp a few years ago. He notices the irony again. He stuffs his _obnoxiously_ colourful shirts and stack of printed screenshots from his rich catalogue of gay porn into the fraying sack and heaves it onto his back. He isn't surprised when he hears he's going back to Leeds... even though no one probably is at this point.

To be clear, this is Louis' third time at the rodeo. 

Climbing into his father's minivan, he eases his phone out of his too-tight jean shorts and scrolls for Stan's number. Finding it, he begins typing nonchalantly.

_me: goin back to 69 prayers n countin. see u in a bit_

Louis places his phone on his knee. He knows it's too early for Stan to be up. Hell, it's too early for him too. He waits for Stan's reply as the car engine roars and the radio plays his father's  _Hillsong Worship's Best Hits_ CD. Sighing, he looks out the window-- trying his best to remember how Doncaster looks for the next 7 weeks. Suddenly, the blinding gleam of glass catches his eye. The  _infamous_ record shop-- well, infamous to just the Tomlinson family-- where all of this madness began.

* * *

_"Zayn," Louis called as he burst through the door._

_The raven-haired boy stuck his head up from the pile of Rolling Stones records he'd been arranging. The Bradford boy had moved recently to good ol' Donny, which meant that he needed to find a good job and a good shag quick. Although the shit AC made it nearly impossible to work his job for a minimum wage, Zayn kept it after his manager green-lit their 'gay activities' in the shop. However, on the condition that no article of clothing was to be taken off. They may have broken that rule... a few times._

_"Yes, babe?" He looked up, hair dishevelled and forehead beading with sweat._

_Louis grabbed the metal handle and slammed the glass door closed. Though it made Zayn cringe inwardly, he forgot it quickly as the shorter boy wrapped his arms around his lean waist, pulled him closer and smashed their lips together in one swift motion. Zayn lifted his tattoo-littered arms and reached for the boy's petite face, caressing it and slowly removing their lips to look into his jaded blue eyes._

_"What's wrong?" Louis huffed and balled Zayn's ACDC shirt into his fist._

_"You heard about the California ruling?" Louis muffled into Zayn's chest, breathing in his musky scent. Louis felt him nod his head and place it on top of his own. "Yeah, dad's going fucking ballistic over it. He's calling the churches nearby and telling all the priests to address it in their masses and shit. I overheard one even considering doing some kind of march as 'peaceful protest' next week. God-- just-- what the fuck?"_

_Zayn felt his eyes roll back all the way into his head, if that was humanely possible. It wasn't the first time something like this had happened. He remembered when his father had changed the radio station as soon as George Michael's Faith had come on and how he said something along the lines of: 'Fag should've gone to church to know about real fucking faith.' Moreover, he remembered how nasty Louis had gotten during their quick fuck after. But that's besides the point._

_"Just don't listen Tommo. Wait till' you're older and move out. You'll never have to see him again." Zayn assured and lifted his chin delicately. He lowered his eyelids and spread his soft lips apart, whispering before he reattached them to Louis', "let me help you forget."_

_Louis was happy to comply, letting himself sink into Zayn's embrace. One could say what came next was Zayn's fault, though Louis would never agree. It was barely there. That sharp intake of air as Lottie stepped in. She stood there with her mouth slightly parted, completely dumbfounded at the sight of her older brother snogging the scary-looking Year 12 boy from school._

_"L-Lou?" Her voice wavered as her legs began to regain feeling._

_Like a deer caught in the headlights, both boys froze and snapped their heads at the blonde._

_"N-no, Lottie!" Louis dashed towards her. But, he was too late. Lottie sprinted in the direction of their home. Louis knew, in that moment, that he was utterly and indisputably fucked._

* * *

Louis came home that day to just about what you'd imagine: absolute chaos. From his father hurling slurs one after the other, to his sisters poking their noses in, to his mother having a mental breakdown over the phone with a priest. Louis came home knowing nothing would ever be the same. And he was right.

The situation may have left him moody, but he wasn't beyond forgiveness. Lottie made it very easy to do so. After he returned from his first 7 weeks with the Church of Evangelisation, Lottie baked a chocolate cake with the words: 'I'm sorry', written hastily before their parents could notice. She pushed the cake into his arms as soon as she saw him and thumped her way back into her room. Louis placed the cake beside her door, walked in and kissed her cheek. He was too tired for anything else. 

 _Bzz_ _._

Louis looked down to see Stan's reply.

_stan the sod: fuck_

_stan the sod: again mate?_

_stan the sod: u need to learn how to keep it in ya fuckin pants bruv_

Louis chuckled, but felt a slight twinge of sadness knowing this would be his last conversation he'd have with him for a while.

_me: dont be pissed i get shagged more than u do_

_me: bruv_

_stan the sod: ..._

_me: help me wit sisters pls_

_me: make sure daisy does that workbook mom bought for her. failed her last test_

_stan the sod: k got it_

_stan the sod: anythin else for the manny?_

_me: mm_

_me: get sum beer for when i get back_

_me: i deserve it_

_stan the sod: was a joke_

_stan the sod: but sure_

_stan the sod: dont die_

_me: ill try_

Louis shut his phone off and his eyes. It would be a while until he reached.

* * *

_Louis stared at the minute hand of the clock. As he waited for his parents to get to school, he considered his options:_

_1\. Run away._

_Benefit: getting rid of his homophobic dad. Walking the streets with a boy without the fear of Lottie or his other sisters seeing him._

_Complications: he'd be homeless. Lacking the skill set and qualifications, he'd probably have to sell his arse for money. He didn't have a problem with that but being a sex worker just isn't for him._

_2\. Throw Zayn under the bus._

_Benefit: not going to camp again. Convincing his parents he's changed for good._

_Complications: being an asshole._

_3\. Let his parents send him back to camp._

_Benefits: wreaking havoc and making Father Benedict's life a living hell._

_Complications: camp._

_Evidently, Louis went with the third. He watched as the blue minivan pulled up. His parents walked past him silently and entered the door-- expecting their son to follow. Louis pulled a chair from the back and sat behind the both of them and met his principal's gaze._

_"As you have been informed, your son was caught doing some... questionable things in the courtyard before school started today." Mr Hardwell interweaved his fingers and placed his hands on the table. "We do not encourage any sort of sexual behaviour on school grounds, regardless of sexual orientation."_

_Sexual, my fat arse. Louis thought. He was just snogging him. With the way he looked in those PE shorts, it was criminal for Louis to not kiss him._

_Resting his left elbow on his thigh and his right hand gripping his other one, his father pinched the bridge of his nose-- as if it was stopping him from spontaneously combusting._

_"Our son has had a," his mother began. "...rather tumultuous relationship with his sexuality. We would like to apologise for what he as done and that we will never let this happen again."_

_"By no means am I shaming him for what he prefers, Mrs Tomlinson." Mr Hardwell corrected her. "Here at Riverwood, we do not discriminate against stud--"_

_"Don't encourage him, Mr Hardwell. He's a sick sinner that needs to search for redemption," his father stood up abruptly. His chair scrapped the floor and flew backwards, nearly hitting Louis' foot. "Thank you for informing us Mr Hardwell, but that will be all." He reached and clawed onto Louis' upper arm. Violently, he pushed Louis out the door and flung the door shut with a big, resounding thud._

* * *

The tires screeched. Louis felt his body being propelled forward, before his seatbelt jostled him back. Louis knitted his eyebrows as he was unpleasantly woken up. Squinting his eyes, the shape of the church slowly took form. The bushes surrounding the garden, the golden lettering that hung on its front, the cracking wallpaper near its left side, the ashy angel statues that welcomed him in and especially, the black form that was Father Benedict rushing out to shake his father's hand.

The 'holy' man had a smile plastered onto his face. Louis knew better. Father Benedict was dreading having Louis Tomlinson back in his church.

And Louis loved it.


	2. Angel Eyes

Harry hunched and kept his eyes downcast as he walked through the doors of the church. In his gut, was a mixture of anxiety, dread, uneasiness, disgust and shame that only a noise of frustration-- which threatened to leave his throat-- could express. He made a big mistake and he was going to 7 Prayers and Counting to correct it. He slipped up. He wouldn't disappoint Him again.

"Be good," his mother reminded him. She used to say that to him before he left the car for another day at school. Sadly, those words seemed a little more complex than  _finish the food I made_ and  _stop getting your uniform stained during PE._

With a kiss on the forehead, his mother stroked his shoulder before leaving him. He overheard what the priest had said to her.  _The faster you leave, the better. In my experience, children whose parents stick around longer have a harder time letting go._   _He will be in the hands of God._

The only thing Harry could do was pray that the priest was right.

He took in the lobby of the church. Shiny teak flooring covered its grounds, numerous picture frames hung from its ivory walls and a sign which read: 'REPORT AT THE CANTEEN @ **9:30AM** FOR 7PAC'. Looking down at his watch, he had 15 minutes before it would begin. Feeling a chill run down his spine, he meandered in search of the loo. When he did eventually find the toilets, Harry lifted his eyebrows in surprise.

The doors were clear glass. Polished. Clear glass. On top of that, a boy wearing a scarlet t-shirt, with jeans that hugged his thighs too nicely, was washing his hands. Harry gulped and pushed the door open.

* * *

_"Louis! Ah, good to have you back son." Father Ben said to him as warmly as he could-- which wasn't a lot. He commanded a sense of gravitas as he towered over almost everyone in the church. He had steely grey eyes, which were indicators of either wisdom or emptiness. The latter made more sense to Louis._

_Louis nodded with a forced smile. He felt his father pat his shoulder before walking away. His touch stung as Father Ben began to walk Louis in._

_"Louis, I know we haven't had the easiest time helping you earn salvation. But I am not willing to give you up. See, He put me and the sisters on this Earth to help you Louis-- guide you to the light." Father Ben's words dissolved into a slimy, indistinguishable blob of bullshit that Louis had grown accustomed to. He began picking at the hem of his shirt. Knowing Father Ben was watching his every move, he hoped that maybe if the man stared hard enough, his bright red shirt might turn him blind._

_"Louis?" Father Ben prodded. He sighed before continuing, "what I am trying to say is, I may have a solution."_

_Louis' ears perked up._

_"If you fail to mend your ways in your time here at 7PAC, I will be forced to do something the both of us will not like." Father Ben crouched down to Louis' eye levels. Louis could see every detail of his wrinkled and spotted face. "Please, work with us to release that evil within you."_

_The boy hesitated, taking in what had just been said to him, before nodding uncertainly._

_Father Ben smiled. This time, it reached his eyes._

* * *

Biting his lip, Louis washed his hands as he contemplated how he would spend his third time in therapy. Should he rebel against the system? Although he hated to admit it, the priest's threats had scared him. Would it be safer for him to go along with it and just do a better fucking job after he gets out?

Louis' thoughts flew out the window as soon as he saw the curly-haired boy enter the toilets. Louis let his eyes wander down his tall, lithe body. Harry donned an oversized hoodie with a pair of crumpled jeans. As though he were physically forcing himself to fold himself in, Harry looked as though he was trying to take up as little space as possible.

 _That won't do._ Louis thought. With the cherub-like teenager wrenching his eyes to the ground and the spirited menace stalking towards his prey, it was the perfect recipe for disaster.

In a blink of an eye, Louis collided into Harry, Harry was pushed into the first aid kit hammered into the wall behind them and clicked its latch open-- dropping a roll of bandages onto Harry's mop of curls.

"Oops?" Louis let out a dry chuckle. He feared the worst as he lifted his eyes to the boy he just unintentionally assaulted.

To his surprise, the green-eyed boy offered a dimpled grin and replied softly, "hi."

Bathing in a ray of light which had peeked through a window, Harry's glistening, emerald eyes and rosebud lips made Louis' breathing seize. Just a little bit. 

However, the younger boy quickly averted his eyes as soon as they landed on Louis' cerulean ones. Hanging his head in-- what Louis could only guess was-- embarrassment, a thunderous cloud had formed above Harry's head.

Louis blinked a few times before whispering, "i-is there something wrong?" Harry flinched.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Louis tried again, dusting any dirt off his legs and kneeling next to him with an open palm. "Please, let me help you."

Harry gave him that  _look_ again. That doe-eyed, helpless look which made Louis equally guilty and awestruck. Slowly, the little deer unfurled his surprisingly large hand and clasped it carefully onto his. 

As Louis Tomlinson notices, Louis Tomlinson must point out. "You have big hands," Louis remarked as Harry bore weight on Louis to get up. "You know what they say about big hands..." Louis trailed off.

"A-a big heart?" Harry tried. He sucked his ruby lips in between his pearly teeth.

Louis sneered playfully, "close enough."

The boys released their hands simultaneously. Louis picked up the roll of bandages and shoved them back into the kit haphazardly before shutting it tightly. As soon as he was done, Harry had vanished from his sight. Only a faded handprint on the side of the door was left of him.

* * *

Harry wanted to slap himself so bad.  _What is wrong with you? Did you see the way he looked at you after you replied with: 'hi'? Why did-- oh my goodness you're such a mess-up._ However, Harry couldn't entertain his self-deprecating thoughts for long as a nun had grabbed his wrist tightly-- to the point that he was sure it was going to bleed.

"When we state a time, we expect everyone to follow it. Do you understand that everyone is waiting on you, young man? You and Mr Tomlinson, of course." The nun reprimanded Harry. Only that, it sounded less harsh than she had intended to. There was a maternal hint in her voice-- making her lecture a bit more like his own mom nagging at him.

Harry fell limp to the nun's pull and muttered an apology under his breath.  _It would be nice to get something done right for once._ Harry sighed inwardly.

Suddenly, the nun had swung Harry forwards and hauled him to her side. Harry fidgeted with his fingers as a big group of teenagers, with every boy partnered to a girl, looked back at him. It reminded too much of catholic boarding school back in Manchester. Only difference was that these were people like Harry. They were  _sinners._ They had black ink staining their skin, metal dots and sticks protruding out in awkward places of their bodies and deranged hairstyles-- one girl had even sectioned off and dyed her hair in the respective colours of the rainbow. Harry did a quick silent prayer to help him through this.

"Ah, Harry. Welcome, dear boy! I see you have met Sister Josephine." A priest, whom Harry needed a few seconds to meet his gaze, spoke to him. He had that posh type of accent that you'd really see in London or Buckinghamshire. For some reason, it left Harry feeling icky. The nun had released Harry from her hold. He heard her footsteps trail off. 

The priest pointed a long, slender finger towards a bright-eyed girl who had her poker-straight blonde hair pulled into a high ponytail. Harry grimaced. She was the type of girl that would be making fun of Harry back home.

"Here's your partner. Harry, meet Taylor." Harry bit his cheek and walked trudged towards her. She gave him a reproving look.  _She probably thinks you look like a complete loser. Why didn't you pick better clothes for today? Instead of some cheap and tattered Primark hoodie and your dad's old jeans._

"Alright!" The priest cleared his throat. "Now, here are the rules regarding our partner system. No one is to be anywhere alone. Everyone is to have their partner with them at all times, unless instructed otherwise. This includes toilet and lunch breaks, as well as who you're bunking with."

Instantaneously, Taylor and Harry looked to one another. Her beady blue eyes meeting his fearful ones. In that moment, they shared some sort of mutual understanding that they belonged to two differing clans that could never intermingle with the other. It was as if Taylor had offered not talking to him unless she had to and Harry had nodded a bit too eagerly. It wasn't like Harry came here to make friends. He just wanted to be fixed.

"Furthermore, we go by a strike system. If you are caught with a person of the same gender as yours alone and without your partner, you will receive a strike. I do not enjoy punishing children of the Lord. Let us all do our best to avoid--"

"Sorry Father Ben! Went looking for a missing boy earlier. What did I miss?" Louis' vibrant voice cut the low drawl of the Father's voice. A few giggles were heard amongst the crowd. Among them, a boy wearing a torn black shirt-- with a skull printed on-- froze. He stood next to another blonde girl. Just that, the boy's partner didn't seem to hate his guts.

"Nothing, Mr Tomlinson. And for your sake, Sister Josephine found Harry. He's right here." Harry saw Louis flick his eyes to him. He felt a warm sensation pool in his cheeks.  _He was looking for me?_

Shaking his head slightly, Father Ben carried on. "Your partner is Miss Calder here."

Harry watched Louis scowl as he joined her side. Miss Calder seemed a bit too happy to be paired with him. Flicking a lock of her dark russet hair, she batted her eyelashes one too many times at him. Harry stifled a chuckle.

"Now, we will be passing you a journal. It will follow you through the entire 7-week programme. You are to write a letter to God every night before the lights are out, which would be 10 o'clock." As if on cue, more nuns emerged from behind Father Ben. Each nun carried around 10 journals stacked on top of each other.

Harry murmured a soft thanks when he received one. Rubbing the leather book, he fiddled with the black, stringy bookmark that came with it. It was honestly quite pretty. If those journals were selling at his local bookstore, Harry was sure he'd buy one.

Father Ben clasped his hands together. With great gusto, he announced for the Healing Rituals to begin.

Harry felt his heart threatening to leave his chest. Flashes of what had _happened_ whirled in his mind. He was caught in a snowstorm with every snowflake stinging his skin. Yet, he lifted his face to receive more.  _You deserve it. You deserve it. You deserve it._

_You deserve it for what you've done._


	3. Mother of God, Pray for Us Sinners Now

"Blessed day, everyone." A man, fitted into a grey suit, stood next to Father Ben. He had a pair of thick-rimmed glasses which hung off his wide, fleshy nose. Pushing them up, he adjusted his jacket. "My name is Doctor Cowell. I am a trained psychiatrist and psychologist. Despite what some of you may think, Conversion Therapy does have its roots in science."

Father Ben laughed at the doctor's comment. He was the only one that did.

Louis was all too familiar with Dr. Simon Cowell. He was the worst part of the programme.

"Dr. Cowell here will be administering the aversion aspect of the programme. He will also report any transgressions that were to happen in this classroom." Father Ben gave Louis a stern look. Louis shrugged and smirked. Looking to see the curly boy's reaction, a flower had blossomed in his chest. Harry had to bite his finger to hold back his laughter.

 _So close_ _._ Louis was determined to hear Harry's laugh.

"Okay, now if you don't mind Dr. Cowell, I will be taking my leave and checking in on the girls." The doctor nodded. Father Ben patted his shoulder before exiting the spacious room.

After the commencement of the Healing Rituals, the sisters escorted the boys and girls into their rooms separately. Louis had never felt true pain before Eleanor, his partner, had bid him farewell with a suggestive brush against his arm. _The mortality rate for hacking off your arm without immediate help can't be too low._

The boys had shuffled in silently. Cold fingers touched Louis' arm. Familiar warm, brown eyes greeted him.

 _Zayn?_ A thousand questions sprung into his mind. Louis wanted to grab his fingers and demand answers for all of them.

Zayn shook his head.  _Later._

Reluctantly taking his seat in the circle, Louis took a seat across from Zayn. It dawned on him that the  _both of them_ were caught by the school. He felt bad for not checking on him. But how? How was he in a _Christian_ conversion therapy programme?

Zayn caught Louis' stare. Squinting his eyes, again he told Louis to wait.

Louis rolled his eyes. Huffing, he settled.

"Let's begin, shall we? I would like you to introduce yourself. Tell us your name, age and where you're from." Dr. Cowell addressed them.

Louis revelled in the introductions. He could identify who belonged in which archetype of conversion victims in the class.

There were the Jesus Freaks. The _real_ conservative homosexuals who'd realised they liked cock but had been told their whole life it was wrong. They believed in this programme wholeheartedly and that it was going to _cure them_. They were the kind of people who would come back to 7PAC as a 'miracle story'; smiley wife by their side and all. Needless to say, many of them would die sad and alone or run away to Brazil with a new name.

Louis tended to stay away from them. They saw Louis as a roadblock on their journey to liking tits. Louis wished he could one day shake them so hard that they woke up from their straight, white picket-fence fantasy.

Then, were the TTs, aka the Two/Three-Timers. Those were the boys who sat with their legs spread and chest wide. They knew what was coming. They were resolute in their sexuality. No worship or counsel sessions could change that. All they wanted was to pass these 7 weeks as quickly as possible. One might think that Louis fell under this category, but that boy had a lot more under his sleeve.

Louis was the ringleader of the Troublemakers. Or more affectionately known as 'The TroubleMarys' by the Jesus Freaks. The Troublemakers were notorious for interrupting rituals with witty and snarky comments and pulling pranks on the staff (and the Jesus Freaks). There was nothing out of bounds for them. Everything was fair game. Louis hoped to weed them out soon. He couldn't wait to use the stack of papers in his bag.

Lastly, there were the Baby Gays. The Baby Gays were the boys who were probably caught by their parents wanking off to some torn magazine page of Idris Elba or Channing Tatum shirtless. You could tell one from their eyes. Just maintain eye contact for 10 seconds. If they look away by the 5th, you've got yourself a terrified Baby Gay. _They_ either remained one or joined the Troublemakers or Jesus Freaks. Or even the TTs, if they manage to slip up again.

Louis sometimes questioned if he had a superiority complex. He liked making sure the babies didn't end up in the evil clutches of the freaks. It made him feel like a big brother again.

Pulling him out of his thought bubble, it was Louis' turn. He really wanted to hear Harry laugh.  _Hmm._

"Good morning everyone. I'm Louis Tomlinson. I'm from Donny. It's my third time here at 7PAC. Pretty sure Dr. Cowell and Father Ben can't stand me. But hey, I still like shoving my cock up someone's ar-"

Half the class erupted into laughter. _That's good._  Louis noted down the people who did.

Unfortunately, Harry wasn't one of them. He looked rather unimpressed. It's like Louis took a step forward and two back.  _Sigh,_ _I am not giving up on you yet._

"That's enough Mr Tomlinson."

The laughter completely evaded. _Buzzkill._

"Anyways, Mr Payne you may go." The doctor ordered.

A boy wearing a plain white t-shirt under a ratty denim jacket, with torn jeans to match, sat next to Louis. Mr Payne had his arms slung behind the chair.  _Classic TT._

"Liam. 19 years old. From Wolverhampton," he said in a pace so quick Louis nearly missed it.

"A man of few words." Louis muttered, low enough so that Dr. Cowell wouldn't notice.

But Liam did. He shifted his head to look at Louis.

"I don't blame you. Proverbs 10:19." Louis jabbed.

"I wouldn't have took you for the Bible reading kind." Liam replied with a small smile.

"Wouldn't have took me for one either. But I guess having lights out at 10pm makes you desperate for something to read." Louis shrugged.

Liam nodded and turned back to face the group. Louis had this good feeling in his stomach. Any friends who were gay were great in Louis' books; Lord knows how many he needed to make up for the friends who left him after he was first caught.

"Hi, umm. My name is Harry Styles. I'm 17 years old. I'm from Manchester." Harry fiddled with the sleeve-ends of his hoodie. Right there, Louis wanted to scoop him up and hug all the fear out of him. Harry looked like a new-born kitty that had been dropped into a freezing pond.

There was no doubt in Louis' mind that Harry was going to be the first Baby Gay who'd join the Troublemakers.

A few more people introduced themselves. The low chatter in the room made it obvious that by then everyone had already tuned out of the icebreaker. Louis wondered whose good idea it was to ask a bloody doctor to help a bunch of teenagers bond.

"Okay, great. Now that we're all familiar with each other. We can begin our first activity." Dr. Cowell stood up from his chair and brushed off the non-existent dirt on his grey trousers.

Louis found it funny how Dr. Cowell rarely addressed the activities as rituals. Maybe he did have some sense left in his thick skull.

The doctor wheeled in a whiteboard to his spot, making sure everyone could see. In what was the scratchiest form of handwriting, he wrote: 'RECONSTRUCTING YOUR VIEWS ON SELF'.

Louis rolled his eyes. He hated the aversion part of the programme. It was a lot more work than singing some songs and pretending to pray.

"In this activity, all of you will be saying what type of traits you liked in the person that has landed you here and turning it around. You will realise that these attractions are merely projections of your own insecurities." Louis wanted to dry-heave.

"We need an example. Let's see..." Dr. Cowell scanned the circle of boys and stopped immediately on Louis.  _Fucking piss._

"Louis! Since you can't seem to keep your mouth shut, let's but that to get use." Dr. Cowell raised an eyebrow.

"That's what my boyfriend said last night." Louis retorted. More laughter ensued, making the doctor's face drop. _Good._

"Moving on, tell us what you found appealing in Mr Malik here."

Louis felt his stomach drop.  _He knew?_

The situation felt too intimate in front of complete strangers. To the untrained eye, Zayn looked like he was handling it well. Louis knew for a fact that he probably wanted to bury a hole in the ground and hide in it.

The doctor looked at Louis as though to say:  _try me. You won't win._

How naive.

Louis rolled his head coquettishly before answering, "oh, what's there not to say about Zayn?"

Louis heard Zayn let out a dry laugh. He could hear it already.  _Loueh you fucking idiot._

"He's tall. He's tan. He's got cool-looking tattoos that make him look scary so no one bothers him. He's got the prettiest brown eyes and a dick that goe--"

"Right." The doctor clipped Louis off. "Now, I want you to think about what he has that you don't. And then, I want you to say those things out."

Louis would normally answer with some bullshit like  _he's got confidence I'll never have_ or  _he's really smart and I'm not._ But with Zayn right in front of him, his brown eyes boring into him, Louis couldn't help but give an honest one.

"Zayn is rational," Louis whispered. "I don't think I've ever seen him lose it. When he gets upset, he just buggers home and spray paints his walls. I guess I wish I knew how to deal with my problems like that."

A snigger came from one of the Jesus Freaks. Dr. Cowell's eyes were blank.  _Maybe I've said too much._

"I-uh, wow. Thank you, Louis." The doctor was clearly taken aback. "Um, right so Louis I think you're capable of managing your anger and dealing with temporary issues healthily. You don't realise that you're attracted to Zayn here because you want to emulate his laid back personality."

Louis scoffed inwardly. Zayn could be on the cover page of some magazine as 'The Hottest Male of The Year' and nearly no one would be surprised. But, he won't deny that he did admire the way Zayn coped with his problems.

Louis shook his head. He wasn't going to let Doctor Simon _fucking_ Cowell poke his blue ballpoint pen in his brain.

The rest of the class had their share of Dr. Cowell's mind-bending truth bombs. Louis didn't pay much attention until it reached Harry.

"I-um," Harry hesitated.

"Harry. This is a safe space. No judgement will be passed here." Dr. Cowell encouraged Harry with a forced veneer of compassion.

Louis had to stop himself from calling bullshit. He remembered when a boy confessed to wrecking an older man's marriage, during Louis' first time. No one talked to that boy. Not even his partner.

"I-I'm in here because.. I-I um," Harry stuttered. Harry's chest was rising and falling rapidly.

"Harry. What did you do?" The doctor was relentless. Louis really wanted to staple his mouth shut.

Harry began to mumble. Nothing coming out of his mouth made any sense. The doctor walked towards the boy steadily.

"Harry. The first step to curing you is admitting what you've done. Tell us. Tell us what you've done Harry." The doctor tried to take Harry's hand but the frightened fledgling nearly smacked him right across the face.

Harry's mumbling grew louder. Everyone was on the edge of their seats. Louis was a second away from ripping the doctor away from him.

"Harry. I'm not letting you off! Tell us, Harry. You can do it. Overcome that evil within you. Set yourself free." The doctor gripped onto Harry's shoulders. Shaking him, he looked like a petulant child shaking his broken nintendo.

_That's it._

Louis rose from his chair. "Get off him!"

To his astonishment, a few boys followed. They pulled the doctor off the quivering creature, as Louis tended to it. Softly stroking his curly hair out of his face, Louis' heart sunk as Harry's glassy eyes stared back.

"Harry," Louis tried.

Louis called but no one was home.

 


	4. And at the Hour of Our Death

_Harry never did like maths. He didn't understand how to calculate things like column vectors or switch articles around for trigonometry. Maths was a foreign language without any accessible dictionary for him._

_Sure, his sister was good at it. But she'd given up trying to teach him by Year 9. Whenever he'd ask his mom or dad for help, they'd always blame the system for changing the formulae or question structures. Harry knew that they really just couldn't do the questions._

_So, who could've blamed him? Mr Bronson, the Year 11 Maths teacher, had always been kind to Harry. He'd always stay after dismissal just to clarify Harry's doubts. Mr Bronson even made the unthinkable happen. He bumped Harry's grade from an E to a B. To celebrate, he invited Harry for ice cream after classes._

_Mr Bronson was a God-fearing man. He wore a silver pendant and had dreams of becoming a priest after he paid his government scholarship. How could Harry deny free ice cream from a man who'd helped him?_

_1 Thessalonians 5:15-18. See that no one repays anyone evil for evil, but always seek to do good to one another and to everyone._

_Harry was more grateful than he was afraid. Harry agreed._

_The boy got into the teacher's black Honda. Mr Bronson stroked his moustache a few times in the mirror before looking over. "Ready?"_

_Harry never forgot that glint in his eye or the click of the car doors. He remembered looking out the window-- seeing all his fellow classmates and teachers file out._

_At that moment, he felt like the cockroach him and his sister had caught a few days ago. They took around an hour trying to lure it under their mom's ceramic bowl. They just needed the pest to fall for the bait. Stupid roach. How gullible; to fall for a single cookie when there was an abundance of food waiting for it in their kitchen._

_"Yeah," Harry replied. The wheels screeched._

_Harry cringed as he did when the bowl hit the floor, trapping the roach for good._

_"We're going to have so much fun, Harry. Just the two of us, Harry." The much older man trailed his stubby finger down Harry's soft, porcelain cheek. "I just adore your name, Harry. It rolls off my tongue ever so delicately."_

_"Harry... Harry..."_

* * *

"Harry... Harry." 

Peeking open his tired eyes, Harry saw light reflect from golden strands of hair.

"N-Niall?" Harry uttered hoarsely as he sat up.

Harry watched as the blurry creature's razor-sharp cheekbones slowly came together.  _Maybe not Niall._

Suddenly, a painful whack had been brought against Harry's shoulder.  _Definitely not Niall._

Having Taylor sitting onto his bed-- being that close to him-- allowed Harry to get a good whiff of her flowery perfume. It was really overbearing. Harry inched away weakly from her.

"Can't believe this. We met an hour ago and you've already forgotten about me." Taylor hissed. Harry thought she'd work really well as a staff member in the church. As it was, Harry was a lot more scared of Taylor than most of the nuns here. "Well?"

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "H-how long have I been out?"

"Around 15 minutes." Taylor checked her impeccable, crimson nails before eyeing him down viciously. "Listen, Harry. I get that you have your stuff to deal with. We all do."

Taylor leaned closer. There it was again. A weird mix of Lavender and Frangipani. It was weird to Harry.  _Shouldn't perfume help girls get boys? What's the point of putting on perfume if you're going to smell worse?_

"But if Sister Jo comes in during my class again, telling me that you've had another meltdown over Dr. Cowell looking in your direction; I will come to the sickbay again to personally wake you up." By the time she finished her sentence, Harry could make out where the blues ended in her eyes and the blacks began. "Heard me?"

Harry nodded wordlessly.

"Okay, great." Taylor tapped his nose. "I'm going to the canteen. Don't sit with me."

Shell-shocked, Harry sat there frozen-- before Taylor cleared her throat menacingly. In a millisecond, he was off his feet and following his partner out the door.

Harry didn't like being at Taylor's beck and call. He was an annoyance to Taylor; like a pebble that's in your smelly shoe and no matter how hard you shake it just won't get out. Biting down his complaints, he continued winding through the corridors.

_Ephesians 4:32. Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you._

Soon, the racket of sparky teenagers-- all too excited to discuss their first ritual-- hit Harry's ears. Turning a corner, they had reached the crowded canteen. In just a beat of a second, Taylor turned her heel and left Harry. Standing there in the eye of the hurricane, Harry braced himself for the harsh, bitter gusts of wind.

_Great. Where do I go now?_

* * *

As much as Louis tried, he couldn't shake his worry for that knobby-kneed boy. Right after Louis held him, Harry slumped into his arms. Louis nearly shat his pants before Harry's heart pounded against his. Dr. Cowell called for Sister Jo unwillingly after he'd threatened them with a strike if word got out about Harry.  _How ironic that the people who're supposed to make us better people are the scummiest geezers._

The doctor gave a piss-poor explanation which was that Harry had a spiritual awakening and fainted before he started speaking spontaneously in tongues. It was obvious that Sister Jo wasn't buying it. But given the circumstances of her being merely a nun and a boy who was in dire need of care, Sister Jo plucked Harry out of the classroom before the doctor finished.

Louis had always liked Sister Jo. Sure, she didn't support the way any of them led their lives, but she accepted that there were flaws in the church and the lengths they would go to 'cure' homosexuals. To be frank, Louis was planning on having lunch-- and complaining about lunch-- with her when he arrived that day. _Guess that could wait a bit._

After Dr. Cowell's ritual ended, all of the boys made a beeline for the door. Louis looked to Zayn-- who flicked his head, so as to say:  _I'll meet you there._ So, Louis followed the crowd.

Zayn was right anyways. It'd be best if they weren't seen together, knowing that Dr. Cowell is aware that they were both the reason for each other's admission. He was always so smart.

Nearing the entrance of the canteen, Louis felt a tug on his shirt. Expecting a set of eyes that'd absorbed the brightness of a thousand suns, Louis made sure his face didn't fall when he saw Liam's softer eyes instead.

"Hey. Do you wanna get lunch together?" The straight-forwardness was refreshing. Louis really liked Liam.  _Whatever, Zayn'll find us._

"Sure, Payno." Louis beamed. "Zayn'll probably be joining us too. Just saying."

Liam shrugged, "cool. I think Selena's going to be there too."

_Oh right. Partners. Where was miss candle anyways?_

As if on cue, the brown-haired beau came rushing to Louis' side.  _She can't be that daft. She must know I'm in here because I don't fancy shagging her._

"Louis! I've been looking everywhere for you. Where are you sittin- oh! Who's this?" Eleanor's words came as relentless as a bullet train. Liam offered a weak smile and introduced himself.

"How was class?" Liam opened his mouth to answer but was clipped off by Eleanor before he could say anything. "Oh my god. You won't believe what happened in mine! So basically-"

"Cool. Right. I'm pretty hungry so could we do this whole 'oh-my-god-this-happened-in-class' thing at the tables?" Louis pleaded.

"Oh, sorry babe. Sure. I think there's one over there!" Eleanor tugged on Louis' arm, letting her hair tickle Louis' biceps.Louis was never a big fan of his partners. He had a melodramatic goth girl for his first time and a chav girl for his second. But somehow, he'd rather spend an entire month on a deserted island with them than endure any more of Eleanor's grand gestures of love.

Sharing a knowing look with Liam, the tall boy followed them to their table.

* * *

Eating in the stalls wasn't very foreign to Harry; in fact, it felt weird when he did sit with other people for lunch. The food served was so off-putting that even the rancid smell of the toilets did nothing to his appetite. Harry was on the verge of flushing his whole tray of soggy vegetables, cold rice and (possibly) chicken down and taking a walk around the grounds before he heard someone enter the toilets.

Harry kicked his feet up and held them in his arms protectively.  _Please go away. Please go away._

More footsteps echoed through the toilets. Harry gripped tighter.

He heard a stall door creak open and shut close. Both pairs of feet walked into the stall next to him.  _Right, glass doors._

"Z. What're you doing here?" It was Louis. It was Louis and Zayn. Anger began flushing out from his heart; igniting every nerve in his body.  _I'm angry because they're sinning, right?_

"My baba contacted your dad after that principal meeting. He wanted to apologise." Louis let out a whine.

"Fuck, I got you in here. He-he told him about this place. Shit. Z. I'm so fucking sorry-"

Louis' desperate apologies were cut off. Harry heard the sounds of lips smacking. Covering and squeezing his ears, he rocked back and forth on the toilet seat-- wanting to disappear.  _Stop it stop it stop it._

"Shit," Louis moaned.

Harry's skin was on fire. His chest hurt. He closed his eyes, trying his best to tune them out. _Leviticus 18:22._

"Do not have sex-sexual relations with a man as one does with a woman. Do not have-"

"Fucking shit." Louis let out a throaty grunt.

Harry was going to explode. There was too much. Too much anger and confusion and shame and  _arousal._ Kicking open the stall door, he stormed out of the toilets-- hoping that if he walked hard and far enough, he would expend all his mixed emotions.

* * *

 

"Yeah, Ms Flack basically called all of us a bunch of whores." Selena rolled her eyes. "Told us that we were all just curious and that we'd eventually find a man we'd settle down with. Can you believe that wench?"

Louis and Zayn left the toilet after they'd heard heavy footsteps leading out the door. Louis was hoping to go further but he really was hungry. Both of them joined Liam's table again, where Selena, Taylor, Eleanor and Perrie were. Louis took a seat next to Zayn and Eleanor begrudgingly. 

Selena had an arm slung around Taylor. The girls were best friends from middle school. Though they'd promised each other for frequent-- quoting them--  _hot goss_ sessions, their hectic schedules put any sort of reunion on the back-burner. That was till' Taylor's parents found her kissing her friend, during a game of truth or dare, at her 18th birthday party and Selena's grandmother walked in on her flicking off to lesbian porn.

"Unbelievable," Taylor replied. "I mean, I don't know much about this whole gay thing considering I'm not gay-- but that's so rude. God, why does this place even exist?! Can't we all just kiss whoever we want and not make it into a big deal?"

"Yeah, a hundred percent." Liam chimed in.

"Anyways, how was class for you guys?" Selena asked.

Louis would've answered if he was paying any attention to the conversation at hand. Louis toyed with his soggy tomatoes as he scanned the faceless crowd for him.

"Oh, yeah. It wasn't very good either. I mean, it's the regular 'you want to be the person and not with' argument but this guy-- I think he's called Harry-- fainted during class," Liam answered.

"Yeah. He's my partner." Taylor made a disgusted noise.

Louis raised his eyebrows, "what? What's wrong with him?"

"He's a Jesus Freak. His car was ahead of mine. They had at least five bible verse bumper stickers. Not to mention, he looks a bit of a loser."

"Jesus, that's a bit mean, yeah?" Liam retorted.

"And you're deeming him a freak from bumper stickers? I don't believe it. He's definitely a baby." Eleanor added. For the first time since he's met her, Louis was happy to hear her voice.

"I believe her. It's the signs, guys. Plus, he fainted from just talking about why he's in here. Major Jesus Freak." Selena defended her blonde best friend.

"That's a load of bull. Maybe he's gone through some shit." Louis defended his curly-haired friend.  _If Louis could call him that._

"Fine. You'll see that I'm right soon anyways. Lunch ends in 5." Taylor cocked her head to the side.

"Fine." Louis replied.

"Five year olds. You two sound like five year olds," Zayn stated.

"Thank you for the obvious." Louis said sarcastically before standing up.

He looked out the canteen windows, watching the sun glow brightly in the sky. He prayed that it'd set soon. It'd been a really long day.


End file.
